


Falsely Accused

by sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name



Series: Merlin Bingo [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), First Kiss, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Think i cheated with the first kiss tho lol, and arthur comes to save him okay, and uh merlin's hurt, aredian is obviously a piece of shit, aredian tortures merlin, but they dont really kiss, fuck i cant explain it, like they kiss, merlin is basically a smol hurt babey, you just gotta read the fic im afraid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name/pseuds/sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name
Summary: Arthur is out on a hunt when Aredian arrives. Aredian accuses Merlin of being a sorcerer and things go downhill. (Or uphill depending on who you are)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125290
Comments: 2
Kudos: 108
Collections: Merlin Bingo





	Falsely Accused

Prompt 1: FALSELY ACCUSED

When Merlin opened his eyes, a deep feeling of discomfort in his limbs greeted him. Unfortunately shackles weren’t designed for comfort.  
He groaned and tried to move, but to no avail.  
“Arthur?” He called out on impulse, but the only purpose it served was to make one of the guards grunt in his slumber.  
Merlin tested out his shackles, and tried to move once again, taking inventory of his wounds. His legs were free but his arms had been tied above his head and he was sure one of them had fallen asleep. His head was on fire and so was his jaw. He remembered blacking out after the punch to the side of his face. His use of magic was limited at best and terminated at worst. The handcuffs were made from anti-magic metal.  
It was unclear as to what had woken him. It could have been the discomfort of falling asleep standing or it could have been the footsteps which were currently approaching his small, dingy cell.  
“MERLIN!” the voice roared and he knew Arthur had gotten wind of his situation.   
The guards flew to their feet, pretending that they had been awake all along. Arthur paid them no heed at first. “Merlin!?” He asked, gripping the bars of the cell tight. “What the hell are you doing here? I was out for one goddamn day and you got yourself into….. this.” He waved his hands around, possibly indicating Merlin’s current predicament.   
Merlin said nothing and raised an eyebrow in the direction of the guards. Arthur cleared his throat and visibly composed himself.   
“I would like to speak with this prisoner,” he addressed the guards.  
The cell was opened, but the guards refused to let Merlin go. Arthur categorically did NOT yell. When the cell had been evacuated, all except for Merlin, Arthur’s put-together mask crumbled.   
Before he could open his mouth, Merlin beat him to it, “I promise I didn’t do anything stupid this time.”  
“Really? Then, who did?”  
“Your father.” Merlin frowned, “And Aredian.”  
“Who now-”  
“Arthur.” a third voice joined them in his cell and Merlin’s blood ran cold.   
Aredian.  
“Arthur, the crown prince, if I’m not mistaken?” Aredian asked. Arthur nodded.  
“Why is my manservant in shackles and hurt?” he asked, looking rather composed for having yelled a minute ago. Arthur had a knack for appearing composed when he was very much not.  
“He has been caught practicing magic in the very heart of Camelot.”  
“That. Is. Absurd.” Arthur’s composure was slipping and fast, “What proof do you have of your accusations?”  
“Come with me, sire and you shall see,” said Aredian. Merlin thought he detected the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. Or perhaps it was a trick of the light, for Arthur neither noticed nor acknowledged it.  
“Lead the way, Aredian,” said Arthur, and strode out of the cell.  
\-----------  
Merlin resisted the urge to scream, or sob. It had been three days since he had last tasted food, water or the light of day.   
“Just confess already,” Aredian had said to him, “It’ll be so much easier for us both. Just say that you’re a sorcerer, Merlin.”  
If Merlin were to be honest with himself, the prospect of a confession and a subsequent death on the pyre seemed a more attractive option with each passing moment he spent in the cell. He wanted all of it to end.  
But Merlin knew he couldn’t give in. He knew that somewhere in the castle, Arthur was trying his hardest to get him out.   
That thought kept him going.   
When he still hadn’t confessed on the third day, Aredian decided to take things up a notch. The whip was brought in, and at first, it was just a threat, an imminent one, if he didn’t confess. Merlin of course, did no such thing.  
Then it transformed from a meagre threat to something inevitable he had to face every night. Something he dreaded.  
5 days.  
It took 5 days for him to give in. And surprisingly enough, it wasn’t the starvation that made him confess. Nor was it the thirst or the sensory deprivation or even the lashes. In the end, it was the feast that did the trick.  
Aredian was the first one to mention it. Merlin knew better than to trust a liar, but when the guards started talking, when the maids who gave him food everyday mentioned it, Merlin’s hope started fraying at the seams.  
He asked one of the maids what the feast was about and she told him it was in celebration of the eradication of magic from Camelot and that Arthur himself had organised it.   
Merlin’s leftover hope shattered. If Arthur was organising feasts in honour of his looming death, he was certainly not planning on busting him out of his cell.  
Aredian walked in then and Merlin was ready. He was ready to embrace death.  
He told Aredian that he was ready to confess in front of the council.   
\----------  
“The boy wants to confess.” Aredian announced, a pair of guards dragging Merlin into the council room.  
Uther straightened, his hands curling into fists on the throne. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Gaius, Gwen or Morgana.  
Merlin supposed it was all for the better. He did not want the people he cared about to see him like this. The confession was going to hurt.  
He opened his mouth to tell the council that he had been a sorcerer all along, but the bang from somewhere behind him stopped the words in his throat.  
“Wait.” Arthur’s voice cut through the haze in Merlin’s mind, lifting the fog like the sun on a clear day.  
He did not know what Arthur had planned, how he intended to free Merlin, but all he knew was that Arthur was going to save him. His body sagged with relief.  
Arthur took one look at him and his jaw clenched, his arm reaching for his sword. Gwen stopped him.   
“This man,” Arthur pointed at Aredian, “Is a liar. He is framing my manservant and his accusations are completely false.”  
Uther did not blink an eyelash. “You have been bewitched by the sorcerer, this is his magic talking. Aredian can never be, and has never been wrong about these things. Go to your chambers Arthur or I shall be forced to send you.”  
“No,” said Arthur.  
Merlin, even in his compromised state, knew that this was a singular occurrence. Arthur, as a rule, never publicly disobeyed his father.   
“Give me a chance to prove myself father. Just the way you would give a chance to any citizen of Camelot. Just one chance is all I ask.”  
Uther gave in, “ Fine,” he said. “If you fail to prove the boy’s innocence, he dies, confession or not.”  
Arthur blinked, taking it all in; the risk, the possibility of failure then he shook his head. “I won’t fail,” he said.  
And he didn’t. The witnesses were called, the amulet was proven planted in Merlin’s quarters.  
Aredian was proven guilty and sentenced to death, but through all of it, Merlin’s condition deteriorated. His body refused to hold him up. He collapsed, but his head didn’t hit the floor.  
“Merlin?” Arthur cupped his face, lifting him up in his arms. Staying conscious in the safety of those arms was difficult.  
Merlin thought he heard someone whispering “It’s gonna be okay; you’re gonna be okay, you clotpole.” but then again, he also thought someone had pressed a soft kiss to his lips.  
He was definitely being delusional.  
Consciousness was a flickering thing. It glowed bright and the colours engulfed Merlin every time he tried to fight the pull of sleep. Sometimes the colours merged into sounds, ebbing, flowing around him. He thought he heard his name and the word ‘clotpole’ many times during his sleep. That voice helped pull him out. It anchored him, but sometimes it was gone, or directed at someone else and he couldn’t grasp the anchor to swim ashore.  
Merlin finally succeeded in his war against sleep. He opened his eyes to the warm feeling of a palm pressed against his, and the complete, blessed absence of pain.  
There, sitting beside his bed, in his very room was Arthur Pendragon, his head resting on the edge of Merlin’s bed.   
For a moment, Merlin considered how lucky he was. The Prince of Camelot was spending the night in his room. And it was very likely he had spent quite a few nights in. Even if it wasn’t for the right reasons, Arthur was here, and he cared. No matter what he said, no matter how much of an idiot he was, no matter how much saving he needed every time there was a feast, Arthur was the one who had saved him this time. Merlin felt the gratitude spill out of his throat in a rasp of barely intelligible words.  
That did nothing except for waking Arthur, and he got up with a gasp, his sleep mussed hair standing up at the corners of his head.  
“Merlin,” Arthur said, “You’re…. awake.”  
Merlin let his smile take over. “Of course I am. Did you think I was going to stay dead forever?”  
The punch to his shoulder made him wince in pain, but the grin stayed. “Merlin, if you do that again-”  
Merlin rolled his eyes and stood up. “You definitely won’t kill me.”  
“If you die, I WILL kill you, no questions asked.”  
“No you won’t.” he said and looked down at his feet. His feet felt…… fine. He supposed Gaius had had to use magic to heal him. He took an experimental step.   
And promptly collapsed.  
Arthur caught his arm.  
“Who gave you permission to stand.”  
“I didn’t know I had to ask you before I stood up.” Merlin said, ”May I use the chamber pot. Sire.”  
When there was no reply from Arthur, Merlin glanced at him and Arthur was very much staring at him. “What?”  
“I missed that.”  
“Missed what?”  
“You being rude to me.”  
“Never thought I’d get to hear that.”  
Arthur smiled, a tight-lipped thing, “Don’t get used to it,” then after a beat of silence, “How much do you remember, Merlin? After Aredian’s arrest?” he asked.  
Merlin thought he detected the slightest hints of fear at the edges of Arthur’s voice. Then he thought back to the fever dream in which Arthur had cried by his bed, had kissed him. He shook his head to clear it. “Nothing.” He said, “I remember nothing.”  
“Good,” came the prompt reply.  
“I wanted to say thank you, Arthur.”   
“For what?”  
“For doing all of that for me. It can’t have been easy, going against your father and Aredian like that.”  
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it because it was the right thing to do. I was witnessing a wrong and as the future king of Camelot, it is my duty to right all wrongs.”  
Merlin looked at Arthur then, and wondered if that was all it was. He wondered if the fever dream he had had, wasn’t actually a fever dream.  
“You should rest. You’re getting back to work tomorrow.”  
Merlin groaned.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
